


Greatness

by bigyikesdude



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Ancient Greece, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Greek Hero Damen!, M/M, Oracle of Delphi Laurent!, damen is vaguely inspired by achilles but only sort of, self indulgent as hell but I hope you also like it, thats right baby Auguste is alive and he's a good big brother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23653396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigyikesdude/pseuds/bigyikesdude
Summary: Damianos of Akielos is on the path to become a great hero, but first, he must stop in Delpha to hear his fate.He gets a bit more than that.
Relationships: Auguste & Laurent (Captive Prince), Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 55
Kudos: 141





	1. Chapter 1

Damianos of Akielos was to be the greatest warrior of his generation, or so the gods had said. His mother was a minor deity and his father a king. It was known before he was born that he would go on to great things.

Greatness began in Delpha, where Damen would meet the Oracle.

He rode with a straight spine and confidence for the week-long trip. Meeting the Oracle and hearing his fate was something he had dreamed about since he was old enough to understand who he was and who he would be. He had fantasized about the cryptic message he would receive and how it would unfold over his journey.

Arriving at Delpha was no disappointment. The city was set on the side of a great mountain, and it was as beautiful as the poets claimed. Bright flower boxes sat in windows, and the sky was a crisp blue. People were bustling about the markets and between buildings, children chased each other across the stone streets, and a young girl played an enchanting tune on a lyre that echoed across the cliffs. Damen smiled to her as he passed, and her cheeks flushed. Her friends giggled and whispered without subtlety to each other. Damen could not allow himself to get too lost in the city, as beautiful as it was.

He arrived at the steps of the city hall and dismounted. He'd sent word to the king a week before he began his trip, so he was not concerned with being unexpected. After bringing his horse to a nearby water trough, he tied off her reins and checked his reflection in a window. He straightened his clothes and adjusted the lion's head pin of his city-state.

Setting his shoulders back, he made his way up the steps of the city hall. A guard glanced him over, and Damen said, "My name is Damianos of Akielos. I ask an audience with your king."

The guard nodded, "He has been expecting you." With that, the guard led him into the hall and to the king's hearing room.

King Auguste, as Damen knew he was called, was still a young man, although older than Damen by a handful of years. As the doors opened, Damen was surprised by his relaxed posture in his seat and the easy way he wore his golden laurel crown. He had a head of blond hair that reached his shoulders-- an unusual style, at least by Akielon standards-- but he wore it with ease that made it seem only natural. He glanced up when Damen entered and stood to greet him.

It was not a throne room, like the one Damen's father had. Given, Delpha was a relatively small city, but it still surprised Damen. This room was more of a study, with a desk and a chair and a stack of papers scattered across the table. There was a window behind the king, and sunlight poured inside, filling King Auguste's blond head with its rays.

"Damianos of Akielos," The guard announced, gesturing for Damen to step forward.

"Good, I've been waiting," King Auguste said with a smile. His eyes shifted to Damen, and there, Damen saw the hidden regality of the otherwise boyish casualty. He regarded Damen with only thinly veiled mistrust, but his voice was even and unconcerned as he said, "You came seeking your destiny, I take it?"

"Yes, your Grace," Damen replied. He held his chin steady as he met King Auguste's gaze. He said, "I ask to speak with your Oracle, only as much as you will allow."

"My Oracle?" The king arched a brow and retreated in slow, even strides back to his desk. He gestured for Damen to sit at the chair in front of him, and only after Damen sat did he continue. He said, "You ought to be careful speaking like that. _My_ Oracle is a person, not an object, and as such, he does not belong to anyone. Certainly not me, and certainly not you."

At first, Damen thought this may be a joke, but the look in King Auguste's eyes was serious. Damen nodded his head.

"Of course. Apologies. I should not have spoken so rashly," Damen said. He studied the king with new curiosity. He supposed it was a natural reaction. He imagined many men came to Delpha with the purpose of seeking the Oracle's sight, and not all of them would be polite.

Seeming to accept the apology, King Auguste said, "He usually does his seeing in the daytime, so I'm afraid it's getting a bit late. It's a bit of a long walk, too, so perhaps you'll be glad for the break." Damen nodded, and King Auguste continued, "I'll put you in an inn for the night and send him to you in the morning. In the meantime, though, tell me a bit about yourself, Damianos of Akielos."

The question took Damen aback. He sputtered, "I--"

"What are your intentions?" King Auguste clarified when he saw Damen's discomfort, "The Oracle of Delpha is not a street performer. He is chosen by the god Apollo, and he will not use that divine power for just anyone. Why do you deserve his wisdom?"

Damen nodded, then said, "I am the son of Thetis and the King of Akielos. My mother told me, before she retreated to the realm of the gods, that I was destined for greatness. I believe I am meant to be a hero."

King Auguste lifted a brow skeptically, "You are a demigod and a prince. What need do you have for prophecy?"

Damen stopped for a moment. He considered the question, considered the king, then said, "I don't know how to be great. I am only a man."

The king watched Damen's face critically, then seemed to relax. He said, "Good. I don't much like people who believe they are anything more than that. Neither does the Oracle."

There was a light knock on the wooden doorframe, and Damen turned sharply. The guard stepped out of the way of the intruder, who slipped past with the grace of a nymph. The man was young, younger than Damen, and shared King Auguste's blond hair. His was cut short on the sides and longer at the top, as was the style of young men. In the sunlight, he seemed to be made of gold.

Immediately upon seeing him, Damen knew this was the king's brother. They shared the same sharp jawline and strong brow, though Laurent's cheekbones were a bit more pronounced. Because this was the king's brother, Damen tried to stop himself from thinking about how pretty this stranger was. Of course, in trying not to think about it, Damen only thought about it more.

"Am I late?" The young man asked, glancing to the king.

"Only a bit," King Auguste admitted. Damen could not bring himself to look anywhere but at the stranger before him.

"Hmm," The young man looked a bit disheartened at this. He met Damen's eyes briefly and confessed, "I have a bit of trouble with time."

"Getting better," King Auguste said lightly, then, "Laurent, this is Damianos of Akielos. Damianos, this is Prince Laurent."

"Hello," Laurent said, regarding Damen. He was slight, with long limbs and a slender frame, but his eyes were sharp and intelligent like he already knew all the secrets of the universe. He gave Damen a once-over and seemed to be judging him without a word.

"It is an honor to meet you," Damen said, standing quickly and bowing.

When Damen straightened, Laurent politely said, "And you." His eyes then darted to his brother, and they seemed to say something wordlessly between them.

Damen's father had not been keen on him leaving Akielos. He spoke ill of the people of Delpha, despite their legendary Oracle, and warned him of their deception. He said the prophecies often did more harm than good. Men spent their time lamenting over words that had double meanings until they were so consumed with anguish, they found their doom. Damen had argued that maybe they were always meant to doom themselves and the Oracle knew that when forming the prophecy. His father had not agreed.

The outside world was dangerous, his father had argued. Monsters and gods and worse. 

Laurent went to stand beside his brother, who smiled gently at him. King Auguste then turned back to Damen and said, "You're welcome to join us at dinner tonight. Otherwise, the inn in town has a lovely chef." 

"An inn, Auguste? Don't you know this is the greatest hero of his generation? Certainly he deserves better than an inn," Laurent's tone was smooth and easy, but he had a slight smile on his full lips like he were making fun.

"Play nice," King Auguste snapped at his brother, shooting him a look. 

"I'm only joking," Laurent rolled his eyes playfully, then turned his attention back to Damen, "We get a lot of people saying that sort of thing passing through here, looking for advice."

"I can imagine," Damen replied. 

"Most of them are no one special. They leave, and we never hear from them again," Laurent said almost wistfully. He had a spark of humor in his eyes. He said, "You're looking for the Oracle."

"Yes," Damen replied.

"And if you don't like what you hear?" Laurent's brows flicked upwards, a challenge. He watched Damen's face for a reaction, then said, "Most of them don't like what they hear. They leave. They yell. Sometimes they get violent."

"I would not cause harm," Damen assured him.

Laurent seemed to ignore this and continued saying, "One of them challenged Auguste to a duel a few years ago. He shouted and argued for hours. Other times, they attack the Oracle. It never really works out for them, though. They... sometimes. Once... there was one who..."

Laurent's words slowed toward the end, like he were forgetting what he was saying. His eyes blinked slowly, and he seemed to struggle to open them again. Unsure of what to do, Damen glanced at the king, who was watching his brother carefully. When Laurent began to sway on his feet, the king stood and jolted to his side.

Not a moment after Auguste stood, Laurent's eyes rolled back and knees buckled. Auguste lurched to catch him before he could hit the ground. Completely limp, Laurent's eyes were still open, completely white. He muttered to himself with wild speed, far faster than Damen could follow.

"Jord, would you show Damianos to his room for the night?" Auguste asked the guard at the door. He looked to Damen and said, "We'll continue this conversation over dinner."

Damen nodded, "Of course."

On the way to the door, Damen threw one last look over his shoulder. Auguste was lowering to the ground and setting his brother's head in his lap. He methodically combed his fingers through Laurent's golden hair.

Jord led him across the street to the inn. A plain building of white stone walls and marble floors. Damen paused at the door and turned back to Jord.

"He's the Oracle," Damen said, feeling a bit foolish but uncertain of what else to say, "He fainted."

Jord shook his head and simply said, "He was seeing."

Damen thought about this as the innkeeper brought him to his room.


	2. Chapter 2

Damen did not see the Oracle again until the next morning. 

Over dinner, he asked King Auguste about Laurent's absence. King Auguste regarded him with suspicion, searched for any ill intentions he might find written into Damen's expression, then answered carefully. 

"He comes and goes as he pleases. He is a free person." 

"Of course," Damen said, nodding quickly, "I was only worried, after his fainting spell. Is he alright?" 

"Yes," Auguste peered at him from over the rim of his wine glass, "you'll still get your prophecy. No need for concern."

"That's not why I asked," Damen argued. 

Auguste did not look entirely convinced, but he dropped the subject. 

Damen spent the night in his inn room, staring at the ceiling. Sleep evaded him for hours. He had been waiting to hear his fate for his entire life, and the day was nearly there. Excitement and anxiety raced through his veins. A part of him was desperate to know, and another part wanted to leave this city and not come back. 

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was illuminating his room. 

Damen redressed quickly. He paused, his fingers hovering over his sword belt. It had been a long time since he'd gone anywhere without his sword, but be decided it was a better idea to leave any weapons he had in the inn, as a gesture of peace. 

Jord the guard was waiting for him outside of the inn to take him to Laurent. As they walked, he said, "Don't feel bad if he doesn't remember why you're there. He spends a good portion of his life in the future; it makes it difficult for him to remember what's happening in real time." 

Surprised, Damen could only nod. No one had ever told him this about the Oracle. He had heard the Oracle was a bit weird-- prone to falling into trances and spouting nonsense-- but he had never thought about what that meant for the Oracle themself. The mind was not designed to be bouncing back and fourth between moments and time. 

Jord found Laurent by the town herb gardens, a book open over his lap. Laurent looked up when they approached, and Laurent murmured, "Hi, Jord." 

"Good morning, Laurent," Jord replied, and for a second, Damen was surprised at the lack of titles. A guard speaking to a prince so informally would never have been accepted in Akielos, but then, perhaps being a prince was not Laurent's biggest priority. 

Laurent set his book aside and stood to greet Damen. Jord gave a little bow, then he made his exit.

"Good morning, your Highness," Damen said. He could think of nothing better to say.

"You don't have to call me that," Laurent replied with a shrug, "How is the great hero doing this morning?" 

Damen frowned, "Fine." 

"You have no sword," Laurent noted, making a face of mock-anguish as he dramatically pondered, "That's foolish for a hero. What if a monster were to jump out of the cliffs and steal me away? Or are you so confident you could kill a beast with your hands?" 

Damen was a second away from arguing with him when Laurent broke into a smile so pretty, it stopped Damen's voice in his throat.

"Don't look at me like I've insulted your honor. I'm only messing with you."

"Of course," Damen said dryly, "It was so funny." 

"Oh, Damianos, where is your sense of humor?" Laurent arched an eyebrow.

"What?" 

Damen did have a sense of humor, of course, but he barely knew Laurent. Laurent was speaking as if this were the sort of thing they joked about frequently.

The smile slipped from Laurent's features, and he paused for a long moment before finally confessing, "It is earlier than I thought."

A sense of humor was a strange thing to know about the future, Damen thought.

"That's alright," Damen said. He felt a bit bad for taking the smile from Laurent's face. 

Laurent quickly straightened his shoulders and said, "Well then, you must be here because you want your prophecy now."

"Yes," Damen admitted. 

"Alright," Laurent nodded, then gestured with his head for Damen to follow him, "Come with me."

Laurent led him through the village and up the stairs carved into the mountain. It was a long walk, but Laurent took the stairs with the ease of someone who did it routinely. As they climbed higher, they walked past the vegetable gardens and a small flock of sheep. Farmers waved, and Laurent waved back. Damen noticed children playing a ball game behind a small field of berries. The city below became small in the distance. 

At the top of the mountain, there was a shallow cave. Laurent walked towards it without looking to make sure Damen was still following. Inside, there was an ornate rug and a collection of candles. Bundles of dried herbs were hung upside-down from strings along the walls, and a stack of cushions was piled against a wall. Laurent took two and tossed them onto the rug.

"Sit," Laurent said without sparing more than a cursory glance at Damen. There was a small stack of supplies in one corner of the cave-- an iron pot, a flint stone, and various little tools. He took a small pair of scissors, likely a woman's sewing scissors, and cut a bundle of herbs and flowers from the string. He took the flint and struck it, igniting the edge of the herbs.

Fragrant smoke rose from the herbs, and Laurent picked up the bundle by the dry end. He walked the few paces of the cave to disperse the smoke, then set the burning bundle in the iron pot. He set the pot between the two cushions, then sat. Smoke continued to rise between them, obscuring Damen's vision and filling Damen's nose.

"Tell me what you want to see, and I will look for it," Laurent said. He was sitting on his ankles, hands delicately on his thighs.

Damen leaned forward a bit, "I want to see what I will encounter on this quest, so that I may prepare for it."

Without another word, Laurent closed his eyes and fell deathly silent. Damen was aware of the sound of his breathing and the gentle breeze outside the cave. He could hear the sounds of the village below.

The smoke began contorting into shapes senselessly. It curled wildly and spun and wove patterns across the air. Then after a moment, it returned to normal, and Damen was certain he had just imagined it.

Laurent's head tipped back, exposing his neck. Damen could see his eyes darting underneath the lids. He did all he could not to be distracted by the long line of Laurent's throat.

The silence continued for a beat longer, then Laurent brought his head back down and opened his eyes, completely white. In a voice that was not quite his own, he said, " _You've come far, Damianos of Akielos_."

Damen stared for a few seconds, then bowed his head in respect.

 _"You will go north in search of golden glory_ ," Laurent said. His voice echoed across the walls of the cave. Each echo seemed to have a different pitch, different tone, different inflection, as if coming from different people altogether. He continued, _"You will face the beast of many faces. The voiceless will shout praises of your victory. But when the morning star falls, you will face a choice: rise above or fall below. Above, you will be given immortality. Below, you will take death."_

When the echoing stopped, Laurent blinked a few times before really seeming to step out of his trance. He stood quickly. He brought his hand lightly over his mouth and shook his head.

"Was it a good prophecy?" Damen found it difficult to tell.

"I saw things," Laurent replied. Damen stood to be at his level, but Laurent did not linger in one spot long enough for Damen to get close. Laurent said, "Just flashes. Monsters and you, defeating them."

"So it is good, then," Damen said, though his tone was more uncertain than he would have liked. The words alone sounded mostly alright, but he had heard stories of how the Oracle's words twisted. 

Laurent's face was not one of confidence, however. He looked sharply at Damen, and his eyes darting wildly. 

"I saw myself," He admitted. He shook his head and took a breath, "I don't know why I'm surprised. I knew I would."

"You saw--" Damen tried not to look too surprised, but he could not help it. He asked for clarification, "You saw yourself? With me?"

Laurent nodded, though he was no longer looking at Damen. He stared off into space, lost in deep thoughts. He seemed to take a moment to pull himself together. Then he said, "I have to come with you." 

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I didn't ask," Laurent replied, shooting him a sharp look.

The last thing Damen wanted was to bring another person with him on his quest, especially Laurent, who was prone to fainting at random. Such a thing would be dangerous in unknown circumstances. 

"It will not be safe for you," Damen said, even though he already knew it would not change Laurent's mind, so Damen continued, "and your brother will not be happy with it."

"My brother," Laurent repeated. His expression turned a bit sad, then he drew a deep breath and murmured, "Right." 

Quickly, Laurent walked past Damen and began making his way out of the cave and back down to the village. Damen hurried to catch up to him.

This time, Laurent did not seem to notice the farmers waving. A sheep wandered in front of his path, and Laurent nearly ran into it. Damen fell into step beside him and pushed him lightly out of the way of the sheep. Laurent glanced up at him, then looked back at the ground. He was walking at an incredible pace, especially for a mortal.

They arrived in the village again, and Laurent paused for a moment. He looked down at his shadow, which was short. Damen realized he was trying to gauge the time. Laurent lifted his eyes and began forward again. They passed the herb gardens, where Laurent's book still sat on a bench, and weaved between buildings.

Laurent brought them to a field behind the houses, where Auguste and several of his guards were sparring. Damen allowed himself to be impressed by the strength and confidence with which King Auguste wielded his sword. In another life, perhaps Auguste would be the demigod.

"Auguste," Laurent called.

Auguste immediately turned and lowered his sword, and his opponent backed off. Auguste said a few words, which Damen could not hear from the distance, then made his way over to Laurent. When he got close enough to make out the details in Laurent's expression, his brow furrowed with concern, and he moved more quickly. Before he even got to Laurent, he was asking, "Are you alright? What happened?" 

His eyes darted dangerously to Damen, clearly expecting Damen to be the source of Laurent's grim face.

"Nothing happened. It was my vision," Laurent said.

"What did you see?" Auguste took Laurent's face in his hands with impossible gentleness. He asked, "Something bad again?"

Damen did not like the implications of that.

Laurent replied, "I saw myself on his quest."

Auguste's face became very still. He glanced again at Damen, then back at Laurent. 

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice soft, and Laurent nodded. King Auguste took sharp breath and said, "I don't like this, Laurent. You can't be running off with some stranger." 

Damen wanted to point out that, even though he also thought it was a bad idea for Laurent to come, he would not allow any harm to come to Laurent. 

"He is not a stranger," Laurent argued, "I have seen quite a bit of him in the past few weeks; I know his character."

This surprised Damen. He had not realized Laurent knew him before their meeting.

Auguste set his jaw and looked at Damen from over Laurent's head. He said, "Laurent, it's dangerous." 

"Apollo will watch over me, as he always has," Laurent said, "I'll be okay."

"Laurent--"

"It's my destiny," Laurent argued. 

Auguste took a long pause and a deep breath, then said, "You know that you are free to make your own choice. I will trust your judgement. Even I cannot defy destiny, as much as I want to. But--" He looked over at Damen and asked, "Can you give us a moment?" 

"Of course," Damen bowed his head. 

As Damen started to leave, he saw Auguste press his forehead to Laurent's, and Laurent's voice saying softly, "I love you." Then they started arguing about it again.

Damen made his way back to the inn. As he walked, he considered his prophecy, his future. The beast of many faces, the voiceless shouting, the morning star falling. He tried to make sense of it.

If Laurent had truly seen more visions of Damen than he initially let on, the truth was painfully clear: their fates were tied together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, guys! This fic has been so fun. Comments/kudos are much appreciated. Stay healthy!


	3. Chapter 3

They had agreed to leave in the midmorning. 

King Auguste seemed extremely nervous about the whole affair, and Damen wondered if the two had ever been apart for as long as this trip would likely take. Damen pulled him aside and made a promise to protect Laurent by any means possible. Then Damen decided to protect Laurent the best way he knew how: leaving without him.

The world outside Delpha would be dangerous for an Oracle, and besides, Damen could not afford to be distracted protecting his companion in the middle of a fight. It would be better for both of them if Laurent didn't come on the quest.

Damen approached the stables before the sun rose, glancing both ways before entering the building. He closed the door quietly and began to move towards his horse's stall.

HIs horse greeted him with a snort, and Damen smiled. 

Commotion in the back of the stable made Damen's hand go automatically to the sword at his belt. He called into the darkness, "Hello?"

"Hello," The reply was easy and unbothered by the intrusion. Laurent peaked his head around the wooden wall of a stall, a casual smile on his face. He arched a brow and said, "You're up early."

Damen cursed internally, but he was determined not to show his annoyance. Maybe Laurent did not suspect anything. So Damen replied, "As are you."

Laurent hummed his agreement, then absently began petting his horse's nose. It was a bit of an odd choice, Damen thought. Princes and royals typically favored horses with a clean white or stark black coat. Laurent's was a speckled, energetic thing that bumped her nose against his hand in search of treats.

"Auguste would be upset if you had left without notice. It would have been very rude, but not uncommon of an Akielon," Laurent said, eyeing Damen judgmentally, "Not to worry. I informed him we would be leaving before first light."

"How did you--" Then Damen stopped. Of course Laurent already knew. It was foolish to think he could get an edge over a seer, and yet a part of him told him Laurent would not need to see the future to guess Damen's plan.

Laurent looked at him with mischief in his eyes, and Damen huffed.

"Fine. Tack up."

Damen prepared his own horse while Laurent did the same. Damen tried to tamper down his annoyance. His prophecy sounded good, by his inexpert opinion, although the words were known to twist. If this was truly in his future, then he must accept it without argument. He could only trust Apollo to withhold his flashes of prophecy from Laurent until they were in a safe environment.

When Damen brought his horse outside the stable to mount, Laurent followed. Neither said a word until Damen noticed the bow slung across Laurent's back.

"You know how to use that?" Damen asked. Laurent flashed him a deadly look, but Damen did not retract his words.

"I do, thank you," Laurent replied sharply, "I am not some damsel in distress. I'll hold my own just fine if it comes to it, and it will."

Damen did not like the easy way Laurent spoke about their future, though it did make him take a second glance at the bow. "Are you any good?" Damen asked. He tried to look more genuinely interested and less unimpressed.

"I am Apollo's chosen Oracle. He watches over me and guides me," Laurent said, arching a skeptical eyebrow at Damen, "so yes. I'm alright."

"Right," Damen nodded. He tucked this away in his memory. Damen was quite used to being the only person he knew with the favor of the gods, but that was no longer true. Laurent was not a demigod, but in some ways, he was a child of Apollo, one of the Olympians.

"I don't much like heroes," Laurent said before they had even left the city limits. Damen turned to look at him, frowning and on the verge of arguing. This seemed to be the reaction Laurent wanted, because he continued, "They think they're better than everyone else. They walk into my city with their big muscles and big egos and expect me to tell me they're going to be greater than Zeus. Then when I don't, they think it's my fault."

Damen softened a bit, "I'm sorry. They should not take their anger out on you."

"They," Laurent mused, arching one brow, "You are different from _they_?"

"Yes," Damen said. The answer seemed to annoy Laurent, and Damen clarified, "I promise I won't harm you. I won't let anything else hurt you, either. No matter what happens."

Laurent watched him for a second longer, then turned back to face the road. He apparently had nothing snarky to say to that.

"So," Damen said after a few moments of silence passed between them, "See anything new since the last time we spoke? About the beast of many faces, maybe?" 

"No," Laurent admitted, "I am not sure what the beast of many faces is."

"A hydra, maybe."

"Maybe," Laurent did not sound convinced, but he did not offer any other solutions. 

"Any idea how far north we need to go before we find it?" Damen asked. Delpha was further north than Akielos-- he had never been any further north than where he was at that moment. He had no real idea of what to expect.

"I'm not sure," Laurent replied, "My visions don't go into details like that."

Damen paused to think. He thought about the prophecy line by line, then said, " _When the morning star falls_. The sun, I assume. So at nighttime."

"Very clever," Laurent said with a little roll of his eyes, though his expression was light and in good nature.

"And the choice between immortality and death," Damen straightened in his saddle, "That does not seem like it will be a very difficult choice." 

Laurent cracked a smile at that and said, "No, I imagine it won't be too hard on you." 

"When I am a god," Damen said, which made Laurent huff an annoyed laugh, "I'll watch over you." 

"I already have a god watching over me. Two might be a bit of an overkill," Laurent replied, and Damen smiled.

"Well--"

"It's not all too helpful to dwell on the words. They will usually make sense only after the prophecy is fulfilled." 

"That's not entirely useful, is it?" 

"Come on. We should move faster," Laurent urged his horse faster, and Damen could do nothing except follow. 

Laurent was an impressive rider. He kept just a bit in front of Damen nearly the entire ride, and it hardly seemed to take any effort out of him. More than once, he looked over his shoulder at Damen and smirked.

Their pace slowed again periodically to allow the horses rest. In those stretches of time, Laurent would chatter. 

Damen was beginning to understand Laurent. He was sharp-witted and smart and talked quite a bit, but he was also deeply internal. Even while he was talking, he seemed to always be thinking of something else. 

"You haven't fainted yet," Damen noticed. They had made it a good distance already, but Damen was hoping to get a little further before nightfall. 

Laurent looked at him strange and said as if it were obvious, "No. I'd fall." 

"Right. That's why I was concerned," Damen said.

"Apollo wouldn't give me a vision if it will hurt me," Laurent said. 

Laurent sounded sure enough, and Damen let the answer relax him. He had been creating scenarios in his head of Laurent passing out at the edge of a cliff or in the middle of a fight.

It proved to be true enough. They arrived in a pretty, little clearing in some woods, and Damen decided it was time to set camp for the night. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. 

Damen began by unpacking his saddlebags and pitching his tent. Laurent then shot a rabbit clean through the eye from an impressive distance, so Damen decided he probably wasn't bluffing about being able to fend for himself. For a few seconds, Damen could only stare at him in awe, which made Laurent smile and hide his face.

"Did your brother teach you to shoot?" Damen asked. He held a stack of gathered firewood in one arm and brought it to the center of the clearing. 

Laurent smiled softly at the memory, though he looked away to hide it. He said, "Yes, before our father died. Then Auguste became the king, and he was much more busy, so Jord trained me." 

Damen built up the sticks for the fire as Laurent spoke. When he finished, Damen said, "You two are close." He didn't mean to sound sad, but he did. He and his own brother did not have a good relationship. Kastor had been jealous of him since the day he was born. 

"Yes," Laurent said again. He twisted a signet ring on his middle finger, which Damen did not remember him wearing the day before. 

"Is that his?" 

Laurent nodded. Upon closer inspection, Damen could make out the design stamped onto it. A starburst branded in the center with the letter 'D' for Delpha. Laurent said, "He gave it to me as I was leaving. He thinks it's a good luck charm." 

"Oh, he won't be needing it?" Damen said it sarcastically, but it made Laurent look up sharply, so Damen said, "A joke, sorry. Bring that rabbit over here. I'll start the fire." 

Laurent got up to retrieve the rabbit, and Damen struck his flint stone. The dry twigs caught and burned easily, but he had to poke them around a bit to make the larger ones catch. 

Damen heard a thump and turned quickly to see what happened, his fingers already into fists. Laurent was curled in an unceremonious heap on the ground, eyes white and sputtering nonsense.

Sighing, Damen clambered to his feet and made his way to Laurent. He crouched down, gathered Laurent's sprawling limbs, and threw the seer over his shoulder the way a farmer would a sack of potatoes. In the other hand, he picked up the rabbit. 

He set Laurent down beside the fire and propped his bedroll under Laurent's head. 

Taking a long breath, Damen began to cook.

They made it another two days without problems. Damen was actually enjoying Laurent's company, despite his previous reservations. Laurent's psychic abilities apparently were not keen enough to tell him to bring a tent, so they had been sharing Damen's. Damen was not too upset over it. Sometimes he woke up at night and looked over at Laurent, asleep on the other side of the tent, and he couldn't help but smile.

Currently, they were sitting at the edge of a thin creek and giving the horses a moment's rest. Damen would not mind camping here for the night, although it was a bit early. 

"Seeing anything interesting lately?" Damen asked. They were sitting close enough that their shoulders bumped when one moved too much. 

Damen had noticed that sometimes Laurent would wake from his fainting spells looking more upset than other times. It bothered him, to say the least.

"No," Laurent shook his head, "I keep seeing the same few things over and over." 

"What sort of things?" Damen asked. He remembered Auguste's words back in Delpha, then asked, "Bad things?"

Laurent just looked at him and replied, "You'll see them, too, soon enough." 

Damen did not like that answer, nor did he like the faraway look Laurent so often had when he came out of his visions. 

"Right," Damen said, eager to change the subject and raise Laurent's spirits, "So, I've been thinking." 

"That's a surprise," Laurent deadpanned, although Damen caught the mischievous glint in his eye and laughed. The sound caught Laurent off guard enough to make him smile.

"I've been thinking about the beast of many faces, I mean," Damen said. 

Laurent did not say anything, but he turned to Damen and propped his chin up on his hand to show he was listening.

"I decided it cannot be a hydra. It's too obvious," Damen said, "Perhaps it is a shapeshifter." 

Laurent paused to consider this before nodded, "Perhaps."

"Or a chimera." 

"Or that," Laurent said noncommittally. 

"Or--"

He cut off when there was a loud rustle in the woods behind him. He jumped to his feet and drew his sword. Behind him, he could hear Laurent gathering his bow and nocking it.

Damen said over his shoulder, "Stay behind me."

Laurent rolled his eyes, his fingers still on his bowstring and ready to draw.

A young man jumped out from the woods and stopped so abruptly upon seeing Damen's sword, he nearly fell over. He caught himself at the last minute and threw his hands up, saying, "Wait, please!"

Damen lowered his blade and asked, "Who are you? What are you doing out here?" 

The young man was poorly dressed to be facing the elements, and he was unarmed. He glanced at Laurent, then back to Damen as he said, "My name is Erasmus." 

"Where are you going, Erasmus?" Laurent asked. His voice was light, but Damen heard the sharp edge. 

"I don't know," He confessed. His eyes darted and hands shook. He said, "I've... I've run off. Please, do not bring me back." 

"Back where?" Damen asked. He looked at Erasmus's thin clothing and too-skinny frame. 

"Arles," He said, "I was a slave. Please, I cannot go back." 

"You won't," Damen assured him. He sheathed his sword, and when he turned to check on Laurent, he saw that he had already set aside his bow. Damen turned back to Erasmus and said, "We won't take you back." 

Erasmus' shoulders relaxed immediately, and he took a deep breath. He said wetly, "Thank you. I won't keep you. I need to move on." 

Damen nodded, though before he allowed Erasmus to leave, Damen gave him some dried meat and fruit from his bag. Erasmus bowed low and voiced his appreciation, and Damen waved him off. 

As Erasmus started to leave, Laurent stopped him. He said gently, "If you go to Delpha and ask for Auguste, he will give you refuge. Tell him Laurent sent you." 

"Laurent," Erasmus turned the word over on his tongue and nodded, "Thank you."

With that, he darted off.

Damen and Laurent stood quietly for a little, then Damen asked, "Do you think you could spare a prophecy?" 

"Not satisfied with the one I gave you?" Laurent arched a brow. 

"For him." 

Laurent's face softened, and he nodded, though he said, "You have to be quiet, though, so I can focus." With careful grace, Laurent sat back on the grass by the creek and closed his eyes. Damen allowed him a moment of privacy.

It was a several minutes before Laurent moved again. He stretched his arms as he opened his eyes and looked up at Damen, "He'll make it in one piece." 

"Good," Damen nodded. He sat in front of Laurent so they could face each other, then asked, "Have you ever been to Arles?" 

Laurent shook his head.

"Arles," Damen considered the word. He did not believe in coincidence-- they crossed paths with the runaway slave for a reason. Damen met Laurent's eyes and said, "We're going to Arles."

"Are we now?" Laurent looked a bit amused at the thought. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees, then said, "What's in Arles?" 

Damen tried not to think of how close their faces were. 

He answered, "Destiny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! Thanks so much to everyone who has been reading, it means a lot! Please leave kudos/comments if you enjoyed this update :))
> 
> Also-- Arles is not going to be ~that~ close to the book bc it's based off a greek city-state (Troy if u wanna be specific).  
> I just really liked the idea that no matter what universe, Damen finds his destiny in Arles.


	4. Chapter 4

Where Delpha was a small, communal city-state, Arles was a fortress. The city walls were fifteen meters high and had several manned battlements peaking higher. 

"Have you seen this place before?" Damen asked as they rode up to the gates. 

Laurent nodded, eyes following the walls until they collided with the horizon. So they were on the right track.

"The beast of many faces is here," Damen said, looking over to Laurent, "I can feel it." 

"You're right," Laurent said with a little nod, "I feel it, too." 

The guards at the gates allowed them through without protest. Inside, the city swarmed. There were people shouting the prices of goods in the streets, competing with one another. Children darted and weaved between the crowds. It was loud enough that Laurent crossed his arms tightly and seemed to withdraw within himself.

They walked through the city as quickly as they could, which wasn't quickly at all with the amount of people in the street. A woman grabbed onto Laurent's arm and asked for some coins, and Laurent skirted away, shaking his head and telling her he had none.

Damen set his arm around Laurent's shoulders and tucked him against his chest. He said, "Stay close." 

Laurent was tense against Damen's side but didn't try to slip out of his grasp.

When they found a somewhat quiet alcove, Damen murmured, "Don't like crowds much, do you?" 

Laurent shrugged. He said, "Too many people." 

"Come on," Damen said, "Let's find the beast of many faces."

They wandered about the city with no real direction for a while. Laurent flinched every time someone got too close to him, which was often. Damen couldn't blame him. The city was overflowing, and Laurent was already so deeply internal. He did not strike Damen as the type to seek out the company of large crowds.

Damen kept himself just a bit in front of Laurent so he could make a path through the crowd for him. 

All around them, there was chatter. Rise in taxes. Runaway slave. The king's banquet. 

Damen stopped a step short-- making Laurent walk into him-- when he heard a man speaking frantically about a monster who'd carried off a young farm boy between its teeth. 

"A monster, you said?" Damen asked the man. 

The man looked at him, "What of it?" 

"I'll kill it," Damen offered. 

"I don't think there's a person alive who can kill it," The man argued, "It shredded the last man to try." 

"It will not shred me," Damen replied with easy confidence. He held his shoulders back and his chin high. The tactic seemed to work, because the man's face changed. He regarded Damen, then Damen's sword. He nodded.

"Alright," The man said, "but I can't offer any coin."

"I don't require any," Damen replied, "Show me the creature."

They had to leave the city limits through the same gates they entered. Damen thought perhaps these were the only gates in the city. Arles, he thought, was impregnable. 

The gardens in question were actually part of a sizable farm. The farmer pointed out the deep gashes in the soil and the destroyed crops. He nodded to a spot in the woods over Damen's shoulder, and Damen turned. The creature was lurking behind trees, eyeing them with curiosity. It had a long neck of black scales and yellow serpentine eyes. It moved slowly, like a predator waiting for the pounce. 

"Its name is Python," The man said, "I wish you the best of luck." 

The farmer retreated to stand at a better distance, and Damen was left with only Laurent.

"You should go before this gets messy," Damen said, "I'm sure the farmer will comfort you if I die." 

"What makes you think I will need comforting?" Laurent arched a brow. 

Damen just smiled.

"Go kill your monster," Laurent said with a little flash of a smile in his eyes. In one quick movement, Laurent leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Damen's cheek. It was so fluid and short, Damen was left reeling to understand what had happened. Seeing Damen's expression, Laurent said, "For good luck, idiot." 

The creature roared, and Damen stepped in front of Laurent.

When it stepped out from behind the trees and into the light, Damen realized Python was not a snake, it was a dragon. Damen's hand went instinctively to draw his blade, but he worried that a sudden movement would only anger it, so he hesitated. Then Python turned its eyes on Laurent.

For a second, Python hissed, then flinched and turned away. Damen did not have time to think on how odd that was.

"Get away from here," Damen said quietly, "Now." 

Laurent retreated to stand with the farmer and a small crowd of civilians who had gathered. Damen moved closer to the beast, determined to keep the fight as far from the civilians as possible. As far from Laurent as possible, maybe.

Python's body was long, but not tall. It curled its long neck and tail like a snake as Damen approached, but when he got close enough, it lunged forward from muscled hind legs. The first strike was easy enough to evade. Damen sidestepped the creature and got behind it, which he figured was for the best. When Python attacked next, it was forced to face away from the civilians. 

"Hello," Damen murmured. Python snarled in response.

Damen's sword was longer than the average man's. The extra length gave him an advantage over Python, giving him more reach. He adjusted his grip on the leather-bound hilt, then swung.

Python moved with surprising speed for its size, but the blade caught its skin and carved a harsh red line. The creature lunged at him again and very nearly buried a talon in his arm. 

The fight was harder than Damen had expected. He was forced to exert the full extent of his strength and his speed, only to be matched in both. His breathing was too fast and too shallow. Every time he got close enough to Python to strike, the creature moved out of the way. It slashed at him with its talons, each one six inches long and sharpened to a point. Damen had seen daggers less formidable. 

He slashed at the creature's legs and was kicked back. Damen hit the ground hard. For a second, the wind was knocked from his lungs. As quickly as he could, he gasped in a breath and straightened himself. Python drove its claws at with his chest, and Damen rolled out of the way. He clambered to his feet. Sweat was dripping from his forehead.

His grip tightened marginally on his sword, and he lurched forward to slash at the creature's face. Python drew back instinctively, but not fast enough. The tip of the blade raked across its eyes. Blinded, Python staggered back and snarled. It slashed wildly with its talons, but Damen took a step back to avoid them.

He hesitated, gauging his chances of killing the creature in one strike. Python held still, waiting for him to make a sound to strike. The moment Damen shifted his weight, Python lurched in his direction. 

Damen sidestepped, and with a harsh swing, brought his blade down over the creature's neck. 

The head fell to the ground, and the body went limp. 

There were loud gasps and cheers from the crowd. When Damen turned, he saw that more of the townspeople had gathered. Laurent was standing a bit removed from them, leaning against the wooden fence with his arms crossed casually. He put up a display of indifference.

Damen took the head and began his way over to Laurent, who made a face and shook his head. Smiling, Damen set the head on top of the fence. He patted it and looked over to Laurent.

"Only one face," He said.

Laurent arched his brows, "You didn't really think destiny would be so easy on you."

"Easy?" Damen chuckled. His breath was coming back to him, "No one in this city was capable of killing it. _You_ could not have killed it."

Laurent's face turned sour.

"It's true," Damen insisted, which made Laurent roll his eyes and begin to walk away. Damen hurried after him to cut him off, saying dramatically, "Alright, alright. I am sorry. Please forgive me."

"You're annoying when you're fresh off a victory. I'll have to remember that," Laurent said, continuing on his way past Damen. Damen laughed a bit and fell into step beside him.

"Don't take it so personally. I bet my sword weighs more than you do," Damen joked. It was an exaggeration, but Damen liked the way Laurent's nose scrunched up when he was mad. It was a formidable sword, certainly. The metal was sturdy, and it had a thicker width than most. An average man would need two hands to support its weight.

"That's not true," Laurent scoffed, "You give yourself too much credit." 

"I'll be a god by the time this is over," Damen reminded him, nudging Laurent lightly with his elbow.

Laurent huffed, "Yes. Damianos, god of self-importance." 

"You're no fun." 

"You--"

Laurent did not get to make whatever sharp comment was on his tongue before the farmer rushed to Damen and said, "Thank you, sir! How can I repay you?" 

"Consider it an act of kindness," Damen replied.

"Please, at least tell me your name so I can tell the city of your triumph," The man said, "Let me tell them that you are here. The people will be glad for any glimmer of hope."

"Hope?" Damen asked.

"These are difficult times, sir," The farmer said, "The king steals from the poorest citizens. He takes jobs from farmers and workers such as myself and replaces them with unpaid labor. Many of us are without jobs, starving." 

Damen straightened. He said, "My name is Damianos. Tell your people I will help in any way I can." 

The rest of the civilians hurried to him, all talking over each other. Damen smiled and engaged them, humbly accepting their thanks and praises. A woman offered him a fresh apple from her garden, and a small boy hugged his leg. Damen did not notice Laurent had withdrawn until the crowd started to disperse, chattering wildly among themselves.

There was a man talking to Laurent.

"Laurent," Damen called, "are you ready to go?" 

The man turned to Damen and said, "We're in the middle of something." 

"We're not," Laurent said bluntly. He held out his hand, "Damen?" 

Damen took his hand and said, "Let's go."

"You know, Python is afraid of only one thing," The man said, "He who killed it in another life: Apollo."

Damen just looked at him.

"And yet it turned away when it say your boy," The man continued, his smile curving into cruel. His eyes went to Auguste's ring on Laurent's finger, "I'll bet that's because the beast could sense Apollo's blessing on him." 

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Damen replied flatly.

"He wears the symbol of Delpha, and Python was afraid of him. It's not really difficult math."

"I think it's time you go," Damen said sharply, "I don't appreciate what you are insinuating." The man looked as if he were about to argue, so Damen set his hand on the hilt of his sword and began to draw. The man was gone before he could finish, and Damen huffed. 

Laurent was standing very still, watching the man leave. 

"Don't worry," Damen said, "I'll kill him if he tries anything." 

Laurent did not really look all that worried, but he nodded anyway. He had a look in his eyes that might have been fondness as he said, "Thanks." 

Damen did not like that another person knew Laurent's identity as the Oracle. It gave him a bad feeling.

"What was he talking about?"

Laurent answered, "Python is from Delpha. It lived there before any person did. Apollo had to slay it before establishing his line of oracles, a thousand years ago. He was right; it knew me."

"And now I've killed it, and it will be another thousand years before it bothers anyone else," Damen replied evenly.

Laurent seemed to relax a bit more at that, "Yes."

"It was not the beast of many faces," Damen said, "which means we've achieved nothing." 

"No," Laurent argued, "it means Arles has bigger problems than one monster terrorizing farmlands." 

"You're an awful pessimist."

Quirking a smile, Laurent replied, "Maybe."

Damen sighed. He held out his arm for Laurent to take and said, "To the beast of many faces we go." 

Laurent linked his arm with Damen's, smiling, and repeated in affirmation, "To the beast of many faces we go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna try to update these faster bc the next few chapters are going to pick up a lot :)  
> thanks to everyone who is reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long chapter! brace yourselves!

Python's head was mounted to the city walls before the day was over. Everywhere they went, there were whispers. Damen did not mind the hushed voices muttering about him. He minded the ones muttering about Laurent.

Eyes fell on Laurent's ring. The first time, Damen would have brushed it off, but it was gaining frequency. 

"You don't have to glare at every person who looks at me," Laurent said, looking more amused than annoyed, like Damen was cute rather than threatening.

"They know who you are," Damen said.

"Upset I've upstaged you?" Laurent's smile quirked.

Damen huffed. He said, "People would go to a lot of trouble to know the future."

"A bit hypocritical coming from you," Laurent replied, "You already know the future." 

"I wouldn't call knowing a few lines of a confusing prophecy 'knowing the future.' Besides, not all men are like me," Damen said defensively. He straightened his shoulders and glared at the next man to look at Laurent. When the man passed, Damen said, "I will not allow harm to come to you. They might, if it got them what they want." 

Laurent was quiet for a bit, then said, "You have a good heart, Damen."

Surprised, Damen just said, "Oh. Thanks." 

"I just thought I should tell you," Laurent shrugged, "I thought you'd like to hear me say it." 

A strange thing to say, Damen thought, but he offered Laurent a smile anyway. It sounded too sincere for Damen to ignore. He said, "Thank you." 

They walked about the city for a bit longer, but after another hour of hearing nothing about a beast with many faces, Damen decided it was time for a break. He bought two peaches and took Laurent to sit on a bench on one of the quieter streets. 

"Don't be discouraged," Laurent said. He had fruit juice on his bottom lip. Damen made an effort not to look but kept failing. Laurent continued, "Fate will find its course. There is no need to rush it." 

"Will it be soon?" Damen asked. He had heard stories of great heroes who went off for a short quest and did not return for decades.

"I don't know," Laurent answered. 

"Because the visions don't tell you, or because you're bad with time?" 

Laurent shrank away just marginally at that. He set his jaw and did not look at Damen as he took another bite of fruit.

"I'm sorry," Damen quickly said, "I did not mean for that to sound rude." 

"I know," Laurent replied, still not looking at him, "I try to be good with time. I just... I don't understand it. It's hard for me." 

Damen cringed at himself. He had not realized this was a soft spot. 

Laurent sat up a little more and hesitantly raised his eyes to Damen. He admitted, "Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm in a vision or not. Makes it difficult to keep track of what's real."

"This is real," Damen said, hoping to come across as comforting. Guilt was eating up at him. He reached out to touch Laurent, thinking that might help the situation feel tangible. His hand rested gently just above Laurent's knee. He said, "I'm real." 

A small smile quirked the corners of Laurent's lips up. He said, "You would say that if this were the future, too. You would experience it as the present. Everything's real to you." 

"I shouldn't have--" 

Laurent glanced at something over Damen's shoulder, and Damen turned. Something hit him.

His next thoughts were jumbled. He could just make out the shapes of several men around them, and he struggled to his feet. He instinctively took his sword from its sheath, and even in his dazed state, he put his blade through the closest man's heart. 

The scuffle lasted only a few minutes. Damen cut through the three men who had surrounded him. His head was pounding, and he'd gotten a thin cut along his upper arm from a lucky knife. Damen ran the man through with his sword, but as he did, another attacker hit the back of his head with something hard.

Damen fell to the ground, his vision black.

* * *

Damen was not sure how long it was before he woke.

Laurent was gone. Only the dead men remained. 

Cursing under his breath, Damen struggled to sit up. He collapsed back to the ground and laid still for a few moments longer, then gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand.

Once standing, his vision wobbled. He threw his hand out to catch himself on the nearest building wall to prevent himself from fainting again. Vaguely, he imagined he might have a concussion, but he did not devote much time to the thought.

It was getting dark already. It had been daylight when they were attacked. Damen groaned his frustration. He had been unconscious for too long; Laurent could already be dead or worse. He did all he could not to think of worst case scenarios, but his mind jumped to them anyway.

Damen fumbled to pick up his sword and return it to its sheath. He wrapped his fingers around the familiar leather hilt and tried to take comfort in it. 

Laurent was in danger, that was all that mattered. He could worry after he found Laurent.

In search of clues, Damen turned to the dead attackers. The dead men were all wearing the same clothes-- a simple chiton and leather armor. Their weapons were not cheaply made, nor was their armor. They were not common thieves as Damen had originally thought. 

Damen looked closer at the patch embroidered onto their breast. An emblem of a rose. Damen had seen it when they first entered the palace gates, and again and again, he saw it on banners hanging around the city walls. It was the symbol of the king.

Damen turned his eyes to the palace.

The palace was visible from nearly every point within the city walls. It was the grandest building Damen had ever seen. Tall pillars lined the perimeter and held up a stark white roof. The marble stairs leading up to the grand double doors were polished and shiny. There were gardens sprawling around the grounds: fruit trees, flowers, grapevines. 

Damen made his way through the city, hardly noticing anyone he passed. He pushed his way through crowds and past merchants. He had one hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw at any moment. 

When he arrived outside the palace, the first thing he noticed was the guards. Damen hesitated in an alleyway nearby. Every instinct he had was telling him to just cut his way through the guards and get to Laurent, but he tampered down the urge. 

Instead he set his shoulders back and approached the guard with an even stride. He said, "I am Prince Damianos of Akielos, the slayer of Python. I seek an audience with your king."

It was a long while before he was allowed inside.

Perhaps it was foolish to demand the king return Laurent. A king would not likely respond kindly to demands, but Damen couldn't find the ability to care. He would do anything to ensure Laurent's safety.

The guards claimed the king was busy with matters of state, but Damen did not buy it. When he was finally lead down the grand hall towards the throne room, the palace was empty save for guards. No advisors or ambassadors as far as Damen could see. 

The king met him at the entry to the throne room. His smile was conniving and fake.

The king wore his power with every inch of him. He held his chin high and his shoulders back. His crown was studded with dozens of different gemstones, and his cloak was embroidered in complicated patterns. 

"Prince Damianos," The king said, "I believe I owe you thanks. My farmers have been complaining for weeks about Python, and no one has been able to kill it."

"It was easy," Damen replied, "I have a talent for killing beasts." 

The king's face became marginally more serious, but he quickly corrected his expression. Still, the tension remained in the air. He said, "Of course. I am glad for it." 

"I was traveling here with a friend," Damen said, "Perhaps you've seen him."

"Oh?" The king's lips quirked into a harsh smile, "You've misplaced him?" 

"He was stolen." 

The king's smile widened, "That's the way of the world, I'm afraid."

"Where is he?" Damen asked, all pretense of civility gone. He was not in the mood for games; Laurent was in danger. Nothing mattered but that.

"Have you ever thought of what a king could do with an oracle?" The king asked, "Knowing when and how future attacks will take place, knowing of riots and uprisings months in advance. Delpha could have been a military superpower, but alas. Now Arles will be." 

Damen did not have the patience to explain that this was not how it worked. He repeated, harsher this time, "Where is he?" 

The king glanced to his guards, and they moved in closer. 

"I assure you, Damianos of Akielos, I will take good care of him."

"I am not interested," Damen gritted his teeth. He wanted to wrap his fingers around the king's throat. Instead, he said, "I want to see him." 

"I'm afraid that is not up to you," The king argued, quirking up a brow in challenge, "The Oracle belongs to me." 

"He belongs to no one." 

"When you are trying to gain power, do you ask it nicely?" The king laughed a bit, then became more serious, "No. If you want power, you take it. You seize it. You must conquer it. The Oracle is power. This is nothing personal." 

The guards were edging closer again, and Damen's frustration only grew.

"I will not leave until you bring me to him." 

The king glanced at the guard closest to him, then sighed dramatically, "Fine. But once you have proof he is alive and well, you will be escorted out of my city." 

They entered the throne room.

Sitting on the marble steps beside the king's throne was Laurent. He had his legs drawn carefully around his body, half casual, half tense. He'd been bathed clean, and his hair was brushed into fluffy, soft waves. He was wearing a clean chiton and tiny gemstones threaded into his hair. Damen would have thought he looked very pretty, but everything about it was wrong.

There was a purple and blue bruise on his cheekbone-- the only indication that he had fought back-- and his wrists were shackled. The chain was locked to a ring in the ground by the throne and was short enough that he couldn't stand.

There was a slip of fabric tied around his eyes. Even blind, Laurent seemed hyper-engaged in his surroundings. His head was turned to face the king, and he reacted just slightly to every movement in the room.

"Why do you blindfold him?" Damen asked. The sight made his gut twist. He wanted to give Laurent a look of encouragement, but the blindfold made it impossible.

"The little thing refused me a prophecy when I first asked, if you can believe it," The king replied, "I figure if he is unable to see the present, perhaps it will encourage him to look to the future. Call it an incentive."

Laurent tensed as the king got closer to him and sat in the throne. 

The king said, "You have your proof. The boy is alive and well. I'm afraid it's now time you go."

He nodded to the guards, who raised their weapons, but Damen did not move. 

"What do you say, my sweet?" The king reached over and pinched Laurent's cheek hard enough to make him wince, "What will happen if the prince does not leave?" 

"My sight does not reveal hypotheticals," Laurent's voice was sharp as a knife's edge. Damen felt a stab of pride.

The king huffed, "He's annoying for now, but don't fret. He'll be housebroken before the week's end."

Damen drew his sword, and the guards did the same. There were six swords pointed at his throat, but Damen did not mind. They did not have the benefit of surprise anymore, and Damen would not make the mistake of being caught off guard again. 

The king just smiled. He reached over and slipped his hand through Laurent's hair, not the least bit concerned when Laurent cringed away. Damen was nearly overcome with the urge to break the king's hands. It was only fitting for a man who touched Laurent without permission.

A second later, Laurent raised his head.

"I am willing to tell you your future now, your Grace," Laurent said. 

"You've come to your senses, my pet? Do tell me," The king gave Laurent his full attention, forgetting Damen immediately, and Laurent moved to sit on his ankles to be closer to the king's level.

Laurent said, "Some of my visions are quite old. They may have already come to pass."

The king nodded his understanding. He brushed his fingers through Laurent's hair like he were a house cat, saying, "Tell me, and I will let you know if they have happened yet or not."

"I saw you slash a young slave girl's throat because she undercooked your meat," Laurent replied, his voice gentle and innocent, "Has that happened yet?"

The look on the king's face twisted into something angry and cruel. He said sharply, "It is dangerous to eat undercooked meat. The girl did it on purpose, to dispose of me. I had to kill her."

Damen did not like the way the king was looking at Laurent. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

"That was wise of you," Laurent replied in a monotone, "I also saw you take the children of poor farmers to be enslaved when their parents could not pay high taxes. Has that happened yet?"

"Failure to pay must be punished."

"Of course, you're right," Laurent nodded, "I also saw you poison your son and heir because you thought he meant to overthrow you. I saw you treat everyone around you with cruelty. I saw you neglect and ignore your citizens. I saw you turn a blind eye when your soldiers abused their power over the common people. Has all that happened?"

Damen wanted to tell Laurent to shut the fuck up. The king was turning red in his anger.

"Anything else?" The king asked, his tone deathly even.

"Yes," Laurent replied, his lips twisting into a cruel smile, "You will be dead in three minutes."

The room was silent for a long pause as the king regarded Laurent, then swiftly backhanded him. Laurent staggered to the side and made a small noise of surprise and pain. The guards were now focused more on Laurent than on Damen.

Damen took the opportunity.

He swung for the closest guard and caught him unprepared. The man did not have time to react before Damen's sword caught across his throat, and Damen was turning to the remaining men. 

They all came at once, weapons raised. Damen was prepared. 

He slashed his sword low, catching two of them across the legs and bringing them to the ground. When they were indisposed, Damen moved to the next. The remaining three gave him a bit of a fight. They were skilled, certainly better than most of the men Damen had fought in the past. But Damen was determined to get to Laurent, and he would not let anyone stand in his way. 

Damen fought better than he had in his lifetime. There was new power behind every swing of his sword, and he moved with speed a mortal could not achieve. The guards, as skilled as they were, were no match. 

When he was finished with them, he turned on the king. The king was standing now, his entire body tense. He began backing toward the far exit. 

"Damianos," The king said, half-laughing with his nervousness, "do not be rash." 

Damen slashed. The king's head hadn't even hit the ground before Damen was rushing to crouch in front of Laurent, who was squirming in his bonds. He slipped the blindfold off Laurent's face, careful not to touch him too suddenly. 

Laurent blinked a few times to adjust to the light, then said quietly, "Hi."

"Hi," Damen replied. He took Laurent's hands, "Where's the key?"

Laurent nodded to the king, and Damen got up again to look. When he removed Laurent's shackles, a bruise circling his wrist was revealed. Damen's heart clenched.

"Are you alright? Who did this?" Damen asked, unthinkingly running his fingers over Laurent's bruised face. Laurent winced a bit, and Damen drew his hand away.

"I'll be fine," Laurent said, "You got them." 

Suddenly, their deaths felt too quick. He wanted to make the king and every guard suffer for hurting Laurent.

"I think it's time we get out of here," Damen said as he helped Laurent stand.

"The rest of the guards are coming."

Damen glanced at the door and asked, "You saw them?"

"Sort of," Laurent shrugged, "I will see them. So yes, I've seen them."

The answer drew a tired sigh from Damen. "So what now?"

"Go there," Laurent gestured to a door on the far wall, then he swayed on his feet.

Damen knew what was about to happen and carefully braced his arms around Laurent. He fainted a second later, and Damen picked him up the way a man would his bride. Laurent's head tipped against Damen's shoulder, and his quick words left hot breaths of air on Damen's neck.

"I've got you," Damen murmured. He was almost certain Laurent couldn't hear him, but he hoped Laurent knew anyway. He repeated, "I've got you. You're safe."

He pressed his back against the door to open it without his hands. He slid through, mindful of Laurent's body and careful not to bump him against the doorframe. Through the door was a long hallway. Laurent's words were impossibly fast. Damen couldn't even tell if he was breathing. He tried to listen to what Laurent was saying, but he could only catch a word or two every sentence.

 _Morning star_ , Damen heard Laurent whisper. He clutched Laurent a bit closer to his chest.

Laurent's vision lasted only until Damen made his way to the very end of the hall. He startled awake and lifted his head sharply. His eyes were wild.

"Feeling okay?" Damen asked.

"You can put me down," Laurent replied. He looked around a bit, uncertain of his surroundings. He looked upset.

Damen carefully lowered his feet to the ground. His hand lingered on the small of Laurent's back as he waited for Laurent to regain his balance. He reminded Laurent gently, "We're trying to avoid the king's guards."

"The king," Laurent did not understand, "What happened a moment ago?"

"You were stolen away, and I made a dashing rescue," Damen said with a little smile. Damen thought perhaps it was too early to joke, but he knew that for Laurent, it had been much longer than it was in reality. Laurent's expression softened as he remembered. He rolled his eyes playfully.

"I had it under control," Laurent replied.

"I have no doubt."

Damen pushed open the door at the end of the hall and stopped sharply. 

The room was full of people, all of whom turned their heads sharply to see who was entering. They were sitting with their hands bound to their ankles, and their faces and clothes were dirty. Many were children. 

Damen crouched beside the nearest child and said in his softest voice, "Let's get you out of here." 

There was commotion behind them, and Damen turned sharply. 

Laurent said, "Go." 

Damen nodded, and Laurent took his place. Damen stepped into the hallway, sword raised and bloodied. 

Soldiers in the hall were advancing on him, and Damen stepped forward to put distance between them and Laurent. He said, "My name is Prince Damianos of Akielos. Demigod son of Thetis and the king of Akielos. Slayer of Python. Slayer of your king." 

The guards kept their spears raised.

"If you continue this fight," Damen said, "I will kill all of you." 

There was a long silence. The soldiers held their line, held their spears pointed at him. 

Damen adjusted his grip on his sword.

One soldier began to move, but quickly stopped when an arrow sank five inches into his head. 

Laurent was not using his own bow, but rather one of the standard models from the army. Still, he held it with confidence and poise. He said evenly, "This is not a fight you will win." He nocked and drew another arrow.

For another moment, no one moved. It was so quiet, Damen could hear the strain and creak of Laurent's bowstring. 

One soldier threw down his weapon. Seconds passed, then another did the same. 

The hallway was filled with the sound of metal hitting the marble floor, and Damen let himself relax just a bit. Laurent still had his bow drawn and only lowered it when Damen lightly touched his arm. 

"The people?" 

"Slaves," Laurent replied, "Not yet stationed." 

"They're to be released immediately," Damen said with a sharp nod to the soldiers. When none of them moved, Damen raised his voice and repeated, "Immediately."

The soldiers bowed. 

Over the course of the next hour, Damen directed the older freed slaves to help the children get home. There were people running around in all directions, but Damen kept staring at Laurent, who had sat down on the ground to talk to the smallest kids. He smiled and chattered with them, and Damen heard him promise to get them home to their parents. It made Damen's heart swell.

The adults came to Damen and clasped his hands. They thanked him profusely and cried and hugged him. Damen smiled graciously. 

"Are you magic?" One of the little girls asked Laurent. He laughed lightly and shook his head.

"No, but I have seen you before in my dreams, Zoë," Laurent said, "Your mother is very excited to see you again." The little girl stared at him with wide eyes. Laurent then sent her on her way with a group of children being taken home.

A freed man took Damen by the hand and said, "You ought to take the throne, Damianos of Akielos. The king has killed all his heirs. You can take it."

The words rose a murmur from the freed people. They nodded their assent, and Damen just shook his head, "I'm not sure that I--" 

"You can!" A woman told him, "You should!" 

The freed people were cheering now, urging him on. Damen just gave a tight smile. He intentionally avoided their pressing.

"Free the remainder of the slaves. Everyone in the palace, everyone in the city," He said, "Go tell everyone that Arles will no longer be a slave state." 

The freed people cheered, and many rushed to the doors. They hurried down the street, shouting and cheering at the news. Damen smiled, and before he knew it, the room was empty.

"Congratulations, Damianos," Laurent said, standing, "You are the king, if you want it." 

"I want more than a kingdom," Damen shook his head, "If I was content to be just a king, I would have stayed in Akielos." 

Laurent hummed his agreement and walked over to him. He was still wearing the king's tiny jewels in his hair.

"Not many men have the option to be _more_ than a king."

"I do, though," Damen said with a little nod of affirmation, "and I intend to be."

Laurent mused, "Big dreams."

Damen paused, looking at Laurent. The bruise on his cheek should have been ugly, but it was impossible for any part of Laurent's face to look undesirable. Damen asked gently, "As you okay?

Laurent looked a bit surprised at the question, "I told you. I'm fine." 

"They hurt you," It still filled Damen with rage, "He hit you. He put his hands on you."

"I am fine," Laurent rolled his eyes playfully and said, "Thanks to you." 

"Of course," Damen nodded fiercely, "I'm only sorry I did not come sooner. I promised you I would not allow harm to come to you, and now look." He reached out and gently touched Laurent's face. 

"I'll survive it, I think," Laurent joked.

"That's good to hear." 

Damen began walking back towards the throne room, Laurent trailing just a bit behind. The king's blood still stained the marble floor.

"I killed several mortal men today," Damen murmured. Guilt threatened to creep in, but then he looked at Laurent's face, and it disappeared. 

"Necessary evil, I'd say. You've saved more lives than you took. That is what matters. It matters more than killing some mindless creature," Laurent said.

"I am meant to be a monster-slayer, not a murderer." 

"Claws and fangs do not make a monster, Damianos," Laurent replied easily, "You are indeed a monster-slayer."

When Damen looked over, Laurent was picking the tiny jewels out of his hair. The gems caught the light and circled his head in a halo. He looked impossibly beautiful. 

"The king," Damen realized suddenly, "King of Arles is a title that has been worn by many faces. The king was the beast of many faces."

A smile curved across Laurent's full lips. His eyes glinted as he nodded. Laurent glanced at the freed people through the windows, singing and shouting, then said, " _The voiceless will shout your praises_."

Damen couldn't think of anything to say.

"It's difficult to think of anyone more voiceless than a slave, no?" Laurent propped his chin up on his hand and said, "You do not look excited. You're nearly at the end of your quest."

"Yes," Damen said, "that's good."

It was suddenly occurring to him that when his quest ended, he would likely not see Laurent again. Whether he chose immortality or death, he would be leaving Laurent.

"All that is left is for the morning star to fall," Laurent said. He was staring into space, lost in his thoughts.

"Will it happen soon?" He regretted the question, "Sorry, I know time is hard for you."

Laurent replied a little too fast, "Yes. Soon." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the pacing is a bit wack in this chapter so I'm very sorry about that, but you will understand why in the next one.   
> Thanks so much to everyone who is reading :)) Stay healthy!


	6. Chapter 6

Damen had gotten two rooms in a tiny inn, though Laurent argued that Damen shouldn't have to pay for him. 

Before splitting into their separate rooms, Laurent had rolled onto his tiptoes and kissed Damen's cheek. He'd pulled away quickly, a little smile on his face, and darted into his own room. Damen was left staring at the space where he'd been.

It was midmorning before Damen woke up. The room was small-- just a bed, a short couch, and a window-- but Damen had fallen asleep too quickly to really pay it any mind the night before.

His muscles were sore. He longed for a bath. He stretched his arms and began to sit up, then froze when he saw a figure draped over the couch along the opposite wall.

"Laurent?" He asked, his voice gravely with sleep.

Laurent looked up at him. He was reading a book and had evidently been sitting there long enough to be nearly finished with it. He closed it without saving his place.

"Good morning," Laurent said, "I thought I'd pay you a visit, but you were still asleep. I didn't want to wake you." 

"Right," Damen tried not to stare, "Did you sleep well?" 

"No," Laurent replied with a small shrug, "I walked around for a while last night. Went to see the palace gardens. Some of the soldiers defected. I saw them sneaking away." 

"I don't care about them," Damen said. He went to sit beside Laurent. He asked, "Did you sleep at all?" He brought his hand up to Laurent's face, where it was bruised. It was more colorful than it had been the night before.

"I don't remember," Laurent said with a small shrug, "I had more visions. About the morning star falling. The same thing, over and over. I lost track of time." 

"Oh," Damen nodded, uncertain of what to say. The sun was slipping through the curtains and catching in Laurent's hair.

"I wanted to ask you something. I meant to last night, but--" Laurent shook his head.

"Of course," Damen nodded, "Please, ask."

"It might be too late now," Laurent looked a bit wistful at that, "which is new for me. I'm usually too early." He seemed to be lost in thought for a second, then quickly snapped back to the present. He said, "I was going to ask if you would kiss me."

Damen choked on his breath. He could only stare.

"Unless I've misread your gestures," Laurent said, his eyes darting over Damen's face, "In which case, we can both pretend I never said anything."

"No," Damen said a little too fast, "you haven't misread."

"Well then why are you looking at me like that?" Laurent asked, furrowing his brow.

Damen paused. He set his hand on the nape of Laurent's neck, cupping the back of his head. He said, "You're very pretty in the morning light."

That made Laurent laugh, and the sound bounced across the room. Before he could psych himself out, Damen leaned forward until his forehead pressed against Laurent's. Laurent's laughing came to a sudden halt, and his eyes fluttered shut. 

He kissed Laurent gently at first, to make sure it was truly wanted. When he drew away, Laurent leaned in again and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. For a second, they both pulled away, staring at each other.

Then Damen tugged Laurent closer, and Laurent put his fingers in Damen's hair. They kissed with more ferocity. Laurent pulled Damen closer until Damen was leaning over him to make up for their height difference. Laurent accepted it and rearranged his limbs so he could lie on his back on the couch. Damen followed his lips until he was laying on top of Laurent, breathing hard.

"You're so beautiful," Damen murmured. He kissed Laurent again and felt Laurent's hand snake up his thigh. From this position, he could feel every tiny move and wriggle Laurent made under him. 

"Damen," Laurent broke away from the kiss and said, "take me to the bed. Please." 

Damen quickly obliged. 

In a second, they were both lying on the bed on their sides, legs entwined . Damen was half atop Laurent and running his fingertips slowly and deliberately up the inside of Laurent's thigh. He felt Laurent's breath hot against his skin and heard the quiet murmurs of asking for more.

Damen paused. Everything seemed right, but Laurent was so tense he was nearly shaking.

"You're nervous," Damen said, drawing away, "We don't have to do anything more than this."

"I want to," Laurent argued. He pulled Damen closer, and even though Damen could have easily stayed put, he allowed Laurent to move him. Laurent paused for a moment, just looking at Damen, then admitted, "I've never done this."

Damen wasn't sure why he was surprised. Maybe it was because of the way Laurent looked or the confidence with which he carried his body. He tried not to let his surprise show on his face, but he knew Laurent was too sharp to miss it. He said lamely, "This is your first--" 

"I want it to be you. Please," Laurent said sharply. His voice left no room for argument, but Damen was content not to argue anyway.

"Okay," Damen told him, "We can take it slow."

Laurent nodded. Damen kissed him until he was loose and pliant. Only after that did Damen begin removing his clothes. He trailed his hand down Laurent's leg until he caught his knee, then gently pushed his legs apart. Damen settled himself between Laurent's legs, pressing kisses to his neck the entire time.

Laurent talked the whole time-- just senseless, sweet chatter about how he felt, how soft Damen's hair was, how much he liked Damen's muscles. It was an endless stream of noise, only interrupted by kisses and soft gasps.

Now he asked, "Do you have oil?" 

Damen paused, "No."

Laurent ran his hand up Damen's bicep and gave a small, hesitant nodded. He said, "Okay. That's okay." 

"No," Damen argued. He slipped down further, pressing kisses along Laurent's collarbones and chest.

"Really, it'll be fine," Laurent began rambling again, "I'll be able to take it. Just go a little slow, and I will be--" His breath caught and shuttered when Damen took his nipple in his mouth. The surprise only lasted a second, though, then Laurent was murmuring again, "Gods, Damen. That feels good."

Damen smiled a bit. Laurent's tongue was usually sharp, but it was sweet to see him using it to mutter exclamations of pleasure. His volume never rose louder than a strained whisper, but it was constant.

"I like hearing you," Damen said when he lifted his head. He rolled the beads of Laurent's nipples between his fingers, applying pressure enough to make Laurent's breath hitch. He told Laurent, "But I'm not going to fuck you without oil."

"Really, Damen, I'll survive," Laurent argued, but Damen was lowering his head again to press kisses down Laurent's stomach. Laurent continued, "I am not delicate, I can--"

Then Damen took Laurent into his mouth, and Laurent did not say anything else.

* * *

Damen was still buzzing when Laurent got out of bed and began to redress. His hair was messy and his cheeks flushed, but he spoke evenly as he said, "The high nobles will establish a court rather than chose a new king. It will last for a while." 

"A while?" Damen sat up, watching Laurent pull his quiver over his back and test the resistance of his bowstring. 

"Yes," Laurent said with a little shrug, "and then it will fall. As all things do, in time." 

"Why are you telling me this?" 

"I figured you'd want to know what happened to the government you usurped," Laurent said with a little quirk of his brow, "We don't have time to stay and watch." 

"Are we leaving?" Damen asked. He could not help but smile. Laurent was trying very hard to be collected, but his cheeks were pink and he had the makings of a hickey under his jaw.

"Yes," Laurent said with a determined nod.

"Why?"

"Some of the royal guards were loyal to the king you killed," Laurent replied, "His men are not happy, and they will try to enact revenge. We should go before they can."

"How long do we have?" 

Laurent just huffed and replied, "I don't know." 

"Right, sorry," Damen said, "I'll pack up my things." He got up to gather the few belongings he'd taken.

"Hurry," Laurent said lightly. He tested the resistance of his bowstring. 

When Damen was ready to leave, Laurent was already waiting at the door, leaning against the doorframe. He still held his bow in his hand, not across his back. 

Damen pressed him against the doorframe and kissed him deeply. Laurent's gasp was caught against Damen's lips. He tugged on Damen's curls with his free hand, and when Damen pulled away, Laurent muttered his disappointment.

"We need to go, remember?" Damen asked, smiling. Laurent's lips were red and wet.

Laurent said, looking a little sad, "I know." 

"Let's go."

The moment they were outside, Laurent nocked an arrow. 

"You can't shoot people on the street," Damen hissed. 

Without pause, Laurent drew and fired. An archer Damen hadn't even seen fell dead with Laurent's arrow in his heart. 

"Alright then," Damen said. He took Laurent's hand and started running, pulling Laurent alongside him.

They raced through the city toward the stable where they'd left their horses. Damen saddled his horse faster than he ever had, and still when he finished, Laurent was already done. Damen would not have been concerned about a couple rogue soldiers, but Laurent's hands had not stopped shaking since they stepped outside.

Laurent did not make eye contact as Damen asked, "Are you okay?" 

"Yes, sorry," Laurent said with a shake of his head, "I'm fine." 

Laurent then urged his horse forward, and Damen could only follow. 

They rode hard for the better part of the day, until Damen decided they were far enough from the palace to rest. Laurent looked at him strange when they dismounted, but he offered no arguments. 

Laurent set his bow on the ground, then sat in the grass. Damen sat beside him and took his hand.

"We should go back to Delpha," Damen said. He had been thinking about their destination as they rode, "Your brother will be anxious to get you home."

Laurent nodded. He was fiddling with his brother's ring on his finger. He said softly, "I had never left Delpha before this. I was very young when I became the Oracle, and after that it didn't make sense to leave." 

Damen nodded, "I'm sorry you only got to see Arles. It was not the nicest of places." 

"Not as good as Akielos?" Laurent asked, smiling softly.

"No," Damen agreed, "I think you might like Akielos." 

For a second, Laurent's face softened. He leaned against Damen's arm and set his head against Damen's shoulder. He said, "Tell me about Akielos." 

Damen did. He talked about the beaches, the temples, the gardens. He talked about his father and brother. He thought it might be boring for Laurent, but every time he looked, Laurent was staring at him with big eyes and a soft smile, so Damen kept talking. He told Laurent a story about his mother.

"She has a garden next to the palace," Damen said, "It is beautiful. I'd like to show it to you one day. If you would like."

Laurent's face became sharper, and he straightened and said, "No."

"You don't--"

"Of course I want to," Laurent said with a shake of his head, "but Destiny will take her course whether I want it or not."

Damen took a long pause. He finally asked, "What do you mean?"

"The morning star will fall soon, and then you will be given the option to become a god," Laurent argued, "I'm afraid we don't have time to make a detour to Akielos. It is not our fate, Damianos."

"Right," Damen murmured. He tried not to let his disappointment show, but he was certain Laurent noticed anyway. Laurent did not look at him. Damen said, "Well, maybe you can go then, with your brother. I can come down from Olympus to visit the temple in Akielos. To say hi."

Laurent twisted his brother's ring. He looked up at Damen and said, "Damen, I--"

Both stopped when an arrow hit the grass between them.

They scrambled to their feet, and Laurent shot the archer with incredible precision. Damen turned, his sword drawn, to meet the oncoming attackers. They wore the symbol of the dead king on their armor.

Laurent shot another arrow over Damen's shoulder, and Damen jumped forward to engage with the soldiers. 

As Damen fought, he took careful consideration of Laurent's position. He kept himself just far enough away from Laurent that there was little risk of a crossfire, but close enough to Laurent that he could still watch to be sure he was unhurt. Laurent apparently had no such worries, although Damen supposed he shouldn't be too surprised because Laurent already knew the outcome of the fight.

Laurent was a good shot. He hit everything he aimed for.

One soldier dove at Laurent, but Damen cut him down before he could get close. 

Damen slashed at the closest man, and Laurent caught the furtherest one in the throat with an arrow. For a second, there was stillness. Damen thought maybe it was over. Laurent lowered his bow. He was out of arrows.

Leaves rustled behind them. Both turned quickly, and Damen threw his knife at the same moment the final soldier thew his spear. The knife struck the man in the throat, and he was dead before he could fall. The woods were silent again.

The adrenaline was fading from Damen. His heart rate returned to normal, then he turned back to see Laurent.

Laurent had his slender fingers wrapped loosely around the shaft of the spear. He pulled it delicately from his stomach and let it drop to the ground. His hands were covered in his blood. Damen could not breathe.

"Damen?" Laurent asked as he looked from his hands to meet Damen's eyes. He swayed a little on his feet and muttered, "Fuck."

"No," Damen's voice came out as hardly more than a whisper. He lurched forward and helped Laurent to the ground, balanced in Damen's lap. He pressed his hand down on the wound, which made Laurent grimace and mutter protests.

"That makes it hurt more," Laurent's voice was too soft.

"Don't talk, just breathe. You're going to be okay," Damen told him. He kept pressure on the wound, but he could feel all the blood beneath his palm. Too much. Damen said, "I'll get you to a healer."

"No, you won't," Laurent murmured, eyelids drooping. He lifted his hand to touch Damen's face, fingertips just brushing the skin.

With one hand, Damen caught Laurent's hand and held it against his cheek. They were too far from any village. Damen said, "Call on Apollo. He is your patron. He is the healer god, he can save you."

A tear pricked from the corner of Laurent's eye and slid down the side of his face. He shook his head, "He won't."

Damen could only stare for a moment, then he understood. Damen's fingertips brushed across Laurent's ring. Delpha was symbolized through a starburst, and the Oracle was the very essence of Delpha, blessed by the sun god himself. Laurent was a spark of youthful sunshine-- a morning star.

Anger rippled through him like a tidal force. Unthinkingly, he put more pressure down on Laurent, who squirmed in discomfort. He hissed, "You knew. You knew this would happen."

Laurent replied, his voice just more than a whisper, "I've seen it enough times. You'd think I would be ready for it."

"Why would you do this-- why would you come with me if you saw this?" His grip was tight on Laurent's hand.

"It was worth it," Laurent replied with just the barest hint of a smile, "and I saw that, too."

Damen was incapable of saying anything. Laurent's skin was white-pale, and his fingers were trembling in Damen's grasp. The shock of the injury was beginning to wear off, and Damen could see the pain creeping into Laurent's eyes.

When Damen found his breath, he murmured, "Laurent, I--" 

A wobbly smile crossed Laurent's face. It looked pitiful next to his tears. He said lightly, "I know."

Laurent did not say anything else.

Damen wandered deeper into the woods until he came across a patch of wildflowers. He knelt, and when he lifted his hand to pick a few, he left stains of Laurent's blood on their stems.

Damen screamed. 

He cursed and yelled and screamed, and by the end, his voice was hoarse and his cheeks wet. It did not help him feel better, but it did just slightly relieve the enormous weight on his chest. 

When Damen returned, flowers in hand, there was a man crouched over Laurent. His skin was a dark brown, rich from sunlight. He wore several gold rings, and flakes of gold ornamented his cheekbones.

"Hey," Damen snapped, his voice gravely. His fingers itched for a weapon. He snarled, "Who are--"

"At ease, Damianos," A voice said behind him, forcing Damen to turn. His grip was tightening against the flower stems. The woman, tall and graceful, shook her head, "He is mourning, too."

Damen turned back again, and the gold man was brushing his fingers over Laurent's forehead to move his hair out of his face. He looked at Laurent with the fondness of a father.

"I'm sorry. I did not recognize you," Damen murmured, "my Lord, Apollo."

Apollo only gave a sad smile, and Damen turned back to the woman in front of him.

Damen bowed, "Mother."

"I am here to give you what you so desperately want, Damianos," She told him, smiling warmly, "I went to Zeus with news of your accomplishments, and he granted me permission to bring you home. You can have a place among the gods, where you've always belonged."

"I have not earned it," Damen replied immediately, making Thetis arch her brows in surprise.

"You killed a beast only a god has ever killed before," Thetis reminded him, "You saved thousands of lives, and you reshaped a city into what will become a powerhouse. Besides, Apollo vouched for you."

Damen shook his head, "This is wrong."

"You are free to decline," Thetis said, although she looked confused at even the idea of such a thing.

"My prophecy said I would have a choice," Damen said. He could not think. There was nothing for him on Earth anymore, but what was there with the gods? Thousands of years of what? A life until the end of time, for what? Damen shook his head. There was something he was missing.

Laurent would have known, he thought regretfully. He looked over his shoulder to where Laurent was laying completely still and Apollo was pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin looked gray.

"My prophecy promised a choice between above and below; immortality and death," Damen said.

"Is that not the choice I am giving you?" Thetis asked.

Damen shook his head. It was not. He wasn't sure how he knew.

"Above and below," Damen murmured.

He looked toward the sky, then back toward Laurent. Above and below. Immortality and death.

He said suddenly, "Olympus and the Underworld."

Thetis paused, then said with a slight nod, as if she still did not quite understand, "Perhaps."

A small smile crossed Apollo's face, and Damen knew he was right. Damen straightened his back, filled with renewed confidence. He walked over to Laurent and carefully placed the flowers in his hands. They were too cold. Before he went back to Thetis, he nodded to Apollo.

"I chose the Underworld," Damen said. He looked to his mother and lifted his chin, "I want to go to the Underworld. I'm going to bring Laurent back." 

* * *

_Bonus Scene:_

For the past twenty years of his life, Auguste started every day with a prayer to the gods for the safety of his little brother. So far, it had done him well.

When Auguste had free time in the afternoon, he spent hours in the city orphanage with the children. He read to them and played games with them and showed the older ones new sword maneuvers. He liked spending time with them. It reminded him of when Laurent was little, before their father died and Auguste became busy with the duties of king.

Nicaise, who Auguste knew was friendly with Laurent, asked a dozen questions at once about Damianos of Akielos and where he had taken Laurent. Auguste just laughed and replied that Laurent went on his own free will. Even oracles had destinies. 

Auguste knew something was wrong when Nicaise's eyes rolled back and he began speaking franticly.

He caught Nicaise before he could fall-- an instinct he had developed from years with Laurent-- then sat in complete silence. The room was still, and all the guards looked to Auguste.

Auguste's mind raced. His heart raced. Dread slowly began to press down on him.

Nicaise woke suddenly, gasping. Auguste held him close until he calmed down. He remembered the first time Laurent had a vision. He had been terrified and shaking.

"What was that?" Nicaise asked. Auguste pulled him into a hug, and Nicaise wrapped his arms around Auguste's neck. "What happened?"

"The spirt of the Oracle has moved on," Auguste said, too paralyzed with panic to show the overwhelming emotions creeping up on him.

There was a pause, then Nicaise asked, "What about Laurent?"

"I don't know," Auguste replied, smoothing the boy's hair. His hands shook.

He did know. There was only one reason the spirit of the Oracle would change hosts. 

He quickly left the orphanage, panic making his heart pound dangerously in his chest. His breathing shuddered. He walked without direction down the streets, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Denial gripped him, but so did the facts.

Jord was outside the city hall. When he saw Auguste's uneven strides, he asked, "Everything alright, your Grace?"

Auguste was silent for a long minute. He thought the words over in his head once, then twice, before finally finding the voice to speak them aloud. His voice broke.

"Laurent is dead." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof. thanks for all your comments/kudos!!


	7. Chapter 7

Finding the Underworld was not the difficult part. 

Damen burned an offering for the god of the dead, and the ground opened. The dirt contorted into uneven steps. Damen cast a look over his shoulder to where Laurent laid, then took a deep breath. It was the last breath of fresh air he would take for a long while, he knew.

He descended the steps. The earth was too close on either side of him. It made his heart pound in his chest, but Damen didn't mind. It reminded him he was alive.

The descent was longer than he thought was possible. The air became stale and cold. The only sounds were that of Damen's sandals against the steps and his steady breaths. Finally, the steps leveled into a landing. 

In front of him was a river of inky water. When Damen looked at it for too long, his own reflection morphed into different faces. Scenes played out across the surface of the water-- scenes of war, famine, disease, and finally, death. All ended in death. Damen wondered: if he stared long enough, would he see Laurent?

He tore his eyes away and found himself face to face with a skeletal man. No, not a skeleton, Damen realized a second later, although close enough to one. The man's cheeks were sunken and his skin ghostly white. The circles around his eyes were dark and hollow.

"You do not belong here," The man said, "Come back when it is your time." 

"I am here for someone else," Damen replied.

The man cocked his head, then huffed what Damen realized was supposed to be a laugh. It was an empty sound. The man said, "Fancy yourself a hero, do you? Heracles or Orpheus?" 

"No," Damen shook his head, "Not like them."

The man gestured to a boat of dark wood. He said, "Climb aboard." 

Damen stepped onto the boat, which moved violently with every step. He held his hands out to steady himself as the ferryman stepped on behind him.

The boat moved smoothly over the still water. As they moved deeper into the cave, Damen began hearing the whispers of the dead. Some were pleading, others were taunting. When Damen looked back at the water, he saw the faces had been replaced with hands reaching for the edge of the boat.

"Don't mind the damned," The ferryman said easily. 

The cave opened up into a wide cavern. The ceiling was impossibly high, and the depths impossibly low. The river continued along a harsh cliff, and when Damen looked over, he could see fires and hear screams.

"Is he down there?" The ferryman asked, amused.

"No, he could not be," Damen replied without so much as thinking about it. He looked to the ferryman, "His name is Laurent. I imagine you've seen him recently."

The ferryman nodded, "Oracles do not follow the other souls."

Damen asked, "Where is he?" 

"I'll take you to the gates and no further," The ferryman said, "From there, you will find your way on your own or not at all." 

Damen tried not to be annoyed at the lack of anything helpful. He should not have expected it, not here in the Underworld. 

At the end of the river, there was a plateau. It was filled with gray figures filtering one at a time through the grand double doors at the far end of the land. Behind it, they would have their souls weighed. In front of the doors, though, was the guardian. Damen had only ever heard stories of the creature. It towered above the souls, snarling and snapping at those who came too close. 

It resembled a dog, but it had two extra heads. Damen watched it until the boat hit the bank.

"This is where you depart," The ferryman said.

Damen nodded and stepped off. Before he could turn around, the ferryman was pushing his boat off the shore and leaving again. Damen looked to the crowd of souls and drew in a breath. The air was cold and dank, and there was no wind. It tasted of dirt. Damen figured the dead wouldn't mind.

Damen pushed through the crowd. The souls were easy enough to brush aside. They didn't put up a fight when he pushed past him. 

He was about halfway through the crowd when the souls in front of him began to turn their heads. When Damen glanced behind him, those souls were staring at him, too. Damen tried not to let that impede him, but it did raise his nerves. As he pushed forward, more and more souls turned to look at him.

The crowd stopped parting around him. In fact, Damen was almost certain they were pressing closer. 

Damen's eyes darted over the crowd, looking for Laurent. His heart began pounding as the souls pressed even closer. Instinctively, he shoved the nearest one back, and it fell into the others around it. This only served to make more of the souls turn to look at him. 

Their eyes were glazed like a blind man's-- open and sharp, but unseeing. They were making more of a conscious effort to come towards him now, and Damen drew his sword. The blade had no affect on the souls. Damen cursed. Of course it would not. They were already dead. Nothing could harm them anymore. He shoved them back with his hands, but they moved closer. Closer and closer and closer still until Damen was pinned and it was difficult to draw a breath.

Damen gasped as the souls put pressure on his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. Wildly, he realized they were trying to kill him. They had realized he did not belong.

Damen stumbled. He pushed against the souls, but they only pressed in harder. Damen shoved until there was a small gap. Every time his skin came into contact with them, he felt an impossible cold. His skin prickled and burned with frost.

The souls packed in tighter, trying to smother him. He shoved them back harder and inched his way through the crowd. There were more souls than he thought possible. Anxiety rippled through him as he forced his way past them, trying to draw a complete breath.

One grabbed his bare arm, and the cold bit at Damen's skin. It burned worse than a flame would. Damen wretched his arm away.

There were so many. Old and young, male and female. Every time his skin so much as brushed a soul, Damen flinched away.

He wasn't sure how long he spent shoving his way through the oppressing crowd, but eventually he found the edge. He stumbled nearly to the ground, but the crowd did not follow him. They watched, blank-eyed, as he got to his feet and straightened. Behind him, he heard a low growl. Damen cursed under his breath.

When he turned, all three of the giant dog's heads were staring at him. The dog's lips were curled back to reveal sharp teeth. His fur was raised.

"Good dog," Damen said lamely, drawing back a bit. The left head snapped at him.

Damen drew his sword. 

The middle head came down closer and snarled, and Damen tightened his grip on the hilt. When the dog lurched forward, Damen dove to the side and slashed. The tip of the blade caught the middle head behind the ear, and Damen took a tiny moment of triumph before stumbling into the left head. He narrowly avoided its teeth as he drew back.

When Damen got too close to the crowd of souls, they began to grab at him. They latched onto his arms and his clothes and tried to pull him back into the group. Their grips were colder than anything he had ever felt and tight enough to leave bruises. He tugged himself from their grasp just in time to dodge the dog's right head.

Damen took a deep breath. The dogs heads were as large as he was, their teeth as long as his sword. 

He dodged and skirted around as the heads each tried to bite at him. The heads got in each other's way sometimes, which worked to Damen's advantage. Each head seemed to have a mind of its own rather than a collective. Each wanted to be the one who got to Damen, and they bumped into each other in their attempts.

The middle head jumped at him, and Damen slid under its jaw. He ran under the dog's neck and toward the body, sword raised. The dog swatted at him with its paws.

Damen staggered out of the way and paused just long enough for the left head to spot him again. It growled, and the other heads joined. 

"Cerberus!" A voice rang out across the cavern. The three-headed dog turned to face its master and reluctantly drew back.

From behind the dog came a woman with hair darker than he had ever seen. It flowed like water down her back in loose curls. She wore red and pink and white flowers braided into her hair and a dress of rich red-purple. Her skin was golden and her eyes dark. Everything about her was warm, bright, and alive. She did not belong in this place, Damen thought.

As she approached, Damen bowed, "Lady Persephone." 

She smiled. Her lips were the color of pomegranates. 

"Prince Damianos of Akielos," She said, "I was wondering when you would show up. I hope the souls did not give you too much trouble."

"Oh no," Damen said, remembering the press of their bodies against his chest, "None at all." 

Persephone gestured with her head for him to follow as she said, "I believe you're here looking for someone." 

"Yes," Damen nodded quickly and rushed to follow her, "a... a friend. The Oracle of Delpha."

"I am aware," Persephone said lightly. 

She brought him down a black cobblestone path, where the dark dirt of earth began to spring up with grass and plants. As they walked further, a garden formed around the path, more beautiful than Damen had ever seen. Trees rose high and bloomed flowers and fruits. Colorful mushrooms dotted the ground, and large-leaved plants threatened to overtake the path. 

"My gardens are my favorite space in the world," Persephone told him, "All my treasures are hidden away here." 

"It's beautiful," Damen breathed. The air felt fresher here, fresher even than it did on earth.

Persephone showed him to a fork in the path and diverted them down the left. 

Behind a wall of plants, there was a little clearing. Cushions and blankets littered the floor, which were being occupied by a group of about a dozen men and women. Some were mere children, others middle aged. Some chattered with each other, but most of them seemed to be lost in their own worlds. 

Laurent was there, lying sprawled on his stomach over a bed of cushions. A near-translucent silky swath of fabric was wrapped loosely and carelessly around his lithe body. It clung to his skin in the right places and fell loose in others. 

One of the girls was braiding another's hair, and another was twirling by herself, her dress flowing around her. Some were wearing styles in their hair that had not been popular for two hundred years. Others longer. Some wore clothes so old, Damen did not recognize the styles.

As Damen got closer, he saw that all their eyes were white and sightless, Laurent's included. These were, Damen realized, the generations Oracles.

Persephone said, "My husband and I take special care of them." 

"Why?" Damen found himself asking.

Persephone smiled at the question, "They see everything, from the beginning of the universe to the end of time. My husband likes that about them. They tell him secrets of upcoming wars and great heroes who will fall." She smiled and combed her fingers through the nearest boy's hair, "I like them because they tell me stories about the world outside. About romances and adventures and tragedies."

"You miss the world of the living?" Damen asked. His heart felt heavy.

"Sometimes, yes, but I love my husband, too. It is nice, though, to hear about the world. To know that it is moving and changing and growing while I am away," She looked to Damen and said, "That's how I knew you would come here."

"Laurent told you?"

"No, Irene did. About a hundred years ago by now," Persephone nodded to a young woman with dark skin and long braids. She wore an ornately embroidered dress and a thin crown made of flowers. Persephone smiled.

Damen paused, "The Oracles saw it?"

Persephone nodded.

Damen was filled with reassurance. He was on the right path; this was his destiny.

"I want to bring him back now," Damen said, "Please."

Persephone nodded, smiling, and walked over to Laurent. She laid a hand gently on his head and said, "Come up, my sweet. Time to go."

Laurent rose delicately. He straightened his clothes for a moment before looking up, and Damen saw that the color had returned to his eyes. Recognition flashed, and Laurent's face filled with awe. He stepped closer, cautiously at first, then rushed to throw his arms around Damen's neck.

Damen caught him around the waist and lifted him just slightly off the ground. He squeezed as tight as he could until Laurent said with a little laugh, "Damen, ow!" 

Damen set him on the ground.

"You--" Laurent's voice broke in his throat. He laughed wetly before he could continue, "You're here. What are you doing here?"

"I am taking you home." Damen replied. He wanted to pull Laurent forward and kiss him, but he was very aware of Persephone watching them. He paused, then asked, "You did not foresee this?"

Laurent shook his head, his eyes still darting over Damen's face.

"You can come with me, back to Earth," Damen said as delicately as he could. He took Laurent's hands and squeezed them just slightly before relaxing. He said, "We could have a life together. I can bring you home... but only if you desire it."

Laurent nodded quickly, "I do."

He turned to Persephone, who smiled softly and brushed his hair out of his face. She said, "It's alright, my child." 

Laurent bowed to her, smiling brightly. 

Persephone held out a closed hand to Damen, who extended his hand to receive what she was offering. She dropped a small handful of pomegranate seeds into his palm and said, "Go back to the world of the living, Damianos of Akielos. Give your love these, and he will return to you." 

Damen took Laurent's hand and kissed his knuckles. It was freezing, but Damen did not feel the pain of it. 

"I'll see you again soon," Damen promised.

Laurent nodded, "Goodbye for now."

Persephone gestured back to the path and said, "Continue on the path, Damianos. You'll find your way back." 

Damen bowed to her again, smiled to Laurent, turned back to the path. His heart was swelling with excitement and happiness. Eagerly, he stepped onto the path and began walking further into the gardens.

He smiled to himself. He was going to bring Laurent back. 

The further he got down the path, the closer the plants got and the narrower the path got. Soon he was ducking under branches and brushing wide leaves out of the way. His progress slowed as he tried to navigate.

The pomegranate seeds were becoming heavier in his hand. He looked down at them, then closed his fist around them. These were Laurent's life, he reminded himself, and he would not lose them.

The path was becoming overgrown. It was difficult to even see where the cobblestones were with all the flowers and grass sprouting between each stone. 

The pomegranate seeds were like stones. Damen shoved the foliage out of his way, becoming frustrated but still determined to find the end. 

Damen tried to relax and just push forward. He thought of Laurent, of his smile and his sharp wit and his eye-rolls. He thought of the press of Laurent's lips and the touch of his hands. 

The plants began to retreat, but the path had altered. The cobblestone was replaced by dirt and grass and rocks. The foliage was less diverse and beautiful. He stumbled on the uneven ground, but kept pushing forward. The trees became more spaced out.

Damen staggered out of the trees and into a clearing. He realized suddenly that he was back where he had started. The sun was lower than it had been, but the space was the same. Damen looked down at his hand at the pomegranate seeds. They were light again, and Damen let his grip relax just marginally.

Laurent's body was there, his hand laying over the flowers Damen had given him. Damen's heart softened.

Damen knelt by Laurent's side and eased his mouth open. He dropped the pomegranate seeds inside and shut Laurent's mouth again, then said a quick prayer to Persephone for good measure. 

Long seconds passed. Laurent's skin began to color, and his eyes twitched under the lids. His fingers tightened over the flowers in his hand.

Then Laurent gasped.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys! Thanks for reading. Please let me know in the comments if you're into this concept-- I wasn't too sure what people would think of it. Anyway, have a great day and stay safe!


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